


playgrounds

by IndieBughead



Series: The Bughead Collection of Drabbles [8]
Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Tumblr, bughead as kids, like toddler bughead, little juggie is adorable, prompt, super early bughead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 19:30:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15007784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndieBughead/pseuds/IndieBughead
Summary: For @yasybelle#79. "You’re safe now, I’ve got you."





	playgrounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yasybelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yasybelle/gifts).



 

 

Jughead’s never been to a playground like this before, so big and colorful and shiny. The one where he lives is rusty and always smells kind of funny, like one of Hot Dog’s really bad farts, similar to how his dad smells sometimes when he comes back from work. He doesn’t know what it is, but his mom always gets an angry look and yells at him to go to his room whenever it happens.

 

His eyes dance around excitedly, looking for his playdate among the scatter of kids who are already there. Not on the swings, not in the castle – he starts to worry that maybe he’ll have to play with kids he doesn’t know -- kids he doesn’t go to elementary school with.

 

 His mother gives him a gentle shove on his shoulder in the direction of the sandbox and walks to some of the benches that are further from the swings and the group of moms huddled near, hand already reaching for the pack of cigarettes in her back pocket.

 

 _“Don’t go too far and don’t talk to strangers”_ , he mutters to himself as he tugs his beanie down to cover his ears. He thinks it’s weird how he always has to say it to his little sister, but no one ever says it to him.

 

There are two girls in the sandbox, but they both giggle and run to their moms as soon as he steps into the unsteady material. He doesn’t really mind, as far as he knows girls have cooties and he has no business with them. He doesn’t know why Jellybean doesn’t have cooties, but he’s grateful for it. He wouldn’t tell anyone, but his sister is pretty funny for a 2 year old.

 

He kneels down on the sand and gathers some into his hands, creating shapes. He winces when it starts to hurt where his jeans have a hole on his knee, but he knows he can’t ask for a new pair this month, so he sits on his butt instead.

 

“Juggie!”

 

“Hi Arch, you’re late,” he informs his newly acquired friend when he comes to a halt next to him on the sandbox, red hair stuck to his forehead.

 

“I’m sorry, I cutted my finger when we were leaving so daddy had to go in and look for a Band-Aid,” he says, voice turning from morose to excited in a millisecond as he shoves his  hand under Jughead’s nose, Superman curled around his finger. “Isn’t it cool?”

 

“Cut,” Jughead corrects him, rolling his eyes. At Archie’s confused look, he adds. “You said cutted, but that’s not a real word.”

 

Archie continues to stare at him blankly, like he doesn’t understand the importance of it, so Jughead gives him a toothy grin and shakes his head.

 

“That’s a cool Band-Aid, my mom only buys Jelly princess ones,” Archie shudders and makes a gagging nose, and they both giggle. “So I never wear them, see?” He shows him a scrape on his elbow that’s already starting to peel off, and Archie nods solemnly before his face breaks out into an excited smile.

 

“Wanna play?”

 

“Yes!”

.

.

.

They’re playing catch with another kid that Archie knows, Kevin, when Jughead accidentally collides into an older kid by the seesaw.

 

He has red hair like Archie, but when he turns around he sees that his eyes aren’t warm like his friend’s are. Jughead immediately starts to walk away after a muttered apology, but he’s grabbed by the front of his shirt before he can get away.

 

“What do you think you’re doing here, trash?” he seethes through brace covered teeth. Jughead gulps and tries to sneak a sideway glance to his mother, but she’s not sitting on the bench anymore.

 

“Um—I, “he stammers, eyes wide as the kid tightens his grip on him. “I’m here with my friends.”

 

That makes him laugh, and the next thing Jughead knows he’s being pushed down into the merry- go- round and the older kid has gathered a few of his friends. Panic starts to swell on the pit of his stomach when they each grab onto the handles and begin to push, faster and faster each time.

 

Everything’s spinning, and the words thrown at him make his head dizzier. _Southside trash, hobo, Serpent kid._ He tries to hold on to something, anything, but all he manages do is curl his body and cover his ears as the wind hits his face, waiting for it to stop.

 

 “Hey!” he hears someone shout, and the spinning comes to a halt.

 

Everything’s thumping loudly, and the material covering his knees is wet with his tears. A hand is placed on his shoulder, but he doesn’t want to see Archie or Kevin or his mom to see him cry. He wants to go home.

 

“Hey,” but it’s not Archie, unless he suddenly became a girl with blonde pigtails and a pink dress. “You’re safe now, I’ve got you.”

 

He sniffles and turns his head away from the girl, who sits crisscross applesauce next to him and shoves something into his lap.

 

It’s a stuffed cat, the kind that has the expensive sort of fur that his dad says they can’t afford when they go to the store.

 

“That’s Caramel,” she informs him, a serious tone to her voice. “He’s my best friend; he always makes me feel better.”

 

That makes him snort through his runny nose. “A stuffed cat is your best friend?”

 

“Don’t laugh,” she huffs out with all the indignation a 6 year old can muster. “I just – boys don’t play with me because they think they’ll catch something and girls don’t like me because I don’t play with dolls.”

 

He lifts his head from his where it’d been slumped against his crossed arms. She definitely looks like the kind of girl that plays with dolls. He doesn’t want to point that out, especially because he understands her a lot – Archie’s the only kid who wants to play with him.

 

“What do you play with then?”

 

“Well, there’s this _Nancy Drew_ book that has tasks you have to complete, like an invistigation,” she announces proudly before rummaging inside a small backpack he hadn’t noticed before. He opens his mouth to correct her pronunciation of the word, but she takes out a magnifying glass and a map and he suddenly doesn’t care to.

 

“Oh, that’s so cool,” he tells her, and despite his fear of contracting an illness that might kill him, he shuffles closer and grabs the map, inspecting the places she’s already crossed out.

 

“What’s your name?” she asks as she inspects his eyes with her magnifying glass.

 

“Jughead,” he says reluctantly, knowing she’ll laugh. She gives him a smile as she repeats the name on her tongue, nodding as if she decides she likes it.

 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Betty. Wanna play detectives with me?”

 

 He grins and decides that if he gets cooties and dies, at least he’ll have fun first.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi you guys!
> 
> Just another short prompt here. I felt like writing kid! Bughead. I’ve been writing a lot of it for a new multi- chapter I’m working on. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading and liking and commenting -- you guys are the sweetest, always.
> 
> Find me over at indiebughead in Tumblr!


End file.
